Mint Tea

Le Glezio’s phrase “Now the photogrher’s kitchenette is full of boxes of gunower tea and jasmin tea and little bundles of mint” in “Desert” triggered a memory.
I was having breakfast in one of the locally branded cafes in an airport in the easterm part of this double-baptised continent. A vegetables omlette, a fresh orange juice and an espresso.
A lady asked if the seat vis-a-vis mine is free. Her grey well done hair was nimb like. The light of her spirit made her face look wrinkless. She was above eighty or maybe seventy or sixty? It did not realy matter. Her softness and kindness was just transcendent, translucent and ageless. She looked briefly at the menu and ordered a mint tea. The waiter respectfully obliged and returned within minutes. She seemed content.
I finished my breakfast in her quiet company. Her gestures made it clear that no talk will be imposed from either sides. I did not want to spoil the mint translucence either.
As my boarding time was announced, I went to the waiter to pay for my breakfast and asked him to include the lady’s mint tea on my bill. He was surprised yet managed it quickly with a humble accomplice smile. His smile had the mint flavour without him knowing it.
I returned for my things and wished the beautiful lady a nice day. She responded with a quiet mint smile. I stored it in my memory box in the department of “beauty is all around us” with the mint color label of “all we need is to see and feel it”.